Spring Winds

It has been a hot ten days, and residual warmth clings to the shallow breath of wind that swirls under a ceiling of cloud of the type that often precedes rain. The ground is in desperate need of it, though the blossoms on the choke cherry trees in my backyard and stands of alfalfa lining the highway have slowly expanded to life after the few drops that fell last weekend.

Life has been both busy and quiet here, with friends and visitors arriving at my door like the migratory birds that dip their feathers into the backyard pond. I had a special visitor to my home and to the school early this week, a bird specialist from Lillooet. He and I spent Sunday afternoon in the trails near Kingdom Lakes, and I learned much about the species we saw. He visited the school on Monday to talk about his work in the Antarctic, fitting in well with our discussions of extreme environments, and then took us on a field study down by the river. I never thought I would be so fascinated by the world of birds, but it's amazing what a passionate speaker can ignite in our minds.

Reflection at Kingdom Lakes. 

At one point while we were stopped to take a picture in the thick of forest, we heard a great crash. We went to the only sliver of clearing between the trees to witness a stream burst through the rock and come crashing down the cliffs right in the middle of the only portion of the mountains we could see! I didn't want to interrupt my view to take a picture. We watched for a few minutes, marvelling at our luck in being at the exact right spot to get a viewpoint, before the water tapered to a trickle and stopped as quickly as it had started, leaving not a trace as to the event that had just occurred. 

I have been pairing the visits with friends with periods of solitude where I am able to get into the rhythm of writing and reading while appreciating the spring that has once again visited me here at this beautiful house. The sound of a bird gently fanning its wings in bath often rouses me from the pages of my journal, and for the last two mornings I have woken to the sound of a flock of Evening Grosbeaks playfully calling to each other from the cherry trees just beyond my curtained window.

The impending move is also quickening my resolve to finish the few artistic projects that have been left in stagnation over winter, and I am finding a sense of accomplishment as I tuck into things with fresh hands. I've set up a little painting table in the shade of white-blossomed cherry trees, listening to the hummingbirds chatter at each other as they dust for pollen. Just now the tissue-thin petals are being whipped from the tree, falling gracefully to the ground like spring snowflakes, finding their way into my green tea, brushing across my keyboard light as eyelashes.

I'm working on some stories to submit to a writing-in-residence program which would start in October for a month in Banff, and this is keeping me quite occupied in my spare weekend moments. Even if I don't get accepted it's a step in the right direction, and I like the challenge of finally going back to work on a couple of pieces that have always felt "unfinished".

We have set the date--September 2015--for the Fraser River Relay Swim, which is the twenty year anniversary of Fin Donnelly's famous marathon swim of the river in 1995. Unlike Fin, I will be on a relay team with three other women, though we will each swim a portion of every day; it will probably take us three weeks to swim the length of the river in its entirety, which is certainly challenge enough for me. We will have two rafts with us at all times, which will pick us up out of the water for the dangerous rapids. Still, it is not risk-less, and will require a dedicated amount of training and fundraising before we shove off.

We are swimming to raise public awareness about the threats to the health of the Fraser River ecosystem, as it is one of the most important salmon-bearing rivers in the world. We would also like to raise awareness about the Sustainable Living Leadership Program--to entice young people to get involved in the experience of living with a river on their doorstep for twenty-five days; it is impossible to come away from an experience like that unchanged. If people are to care about protecting the natural environment, their connection to it must be rekindled, as it has often been lost in the hustle of the modern, technology-bound era. Immersion in a natural setting over a few weeks is a great way to re-ignight this connection, and this is just what the SLLP does.

So there's lots to keep me busy in addition to a full-time teaching job. Many walks along the banks of Carpenter Lake/Bridge River as it makes the transition from river to lake with the spring run-off. I am continuously shocked at the amount of waste that has been left along the banks from past mining explorations, leeching corroding metals and oil into the surrounding water. I think of coming back here years from now to salvage pieces for metal sculpture, and take comfort in these plans to re-visit the Bridge River Valley in future. It is a place that is deeply entrenched in my heart, and because of this I will always carry it with me wherever my journey shall lead.